


Caged Little Bird

by Navah



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst, Darkfic, F/M, dubcon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-07
Updated: 2015-09-11
Packaged: 2018-04-19 14:53:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4750433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Navah/pseuds/Navah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been ten years since Wendy Darling escaped Neverland for the second time.  She's now a young adult, but can she ever truly be free of Peter Pan?  What Pan wants, Pan gets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_Her cage swayed slightly as it hung from the branch above.  The smell of damp and decay was heavy in her nostrils.  How long had it been since they moved her? Hours? Days? Weeks?  It made no difference.  Time stood still.  How she missed John and Michael.  How she mourned for what Peter had become._

_The gentle creaking of the rope began to lull her back to sleep.  Here, there was no difference between waking and dreams.  He controlled both._

_“Wake up, little bird!” A chipper young voice said._

_Wendy instantly snapped awake and recoiled in her cage.  He swung the cage door open wide and reached in.  She had no choice but to accept his hand.  He grasped her hand gently, and he carefully led her out.  His delicate treatment of her was in stark contrast to his usual cruel ways.  Had he a change of heart?  The sun blinded her as she exited the cage.  She shielded her eyes as a glimmer of hope entered her heart._

_“Are you going to let me go home today?” she asked looking up in to his smiling face._

_“No, Wendy,” he laughed mischievously, “But that doesn’t mean you can’t come out and play!”_

Her eyelids flew open.  The sound of her erratic breathing and the whirring of the ceiling fan filled her ears.  Slowly the room came into focus as her eyes adjusted to the dark.  She was in her bedroom in London.  She stole a glance at the window.  It was still barred shut.  The curtains were closed.  She looked back up at the ceiling as she laid back into her pillow.  The methodical whirring of the fan became a comfort to her as she began drifting off to sleep again.

Just then an icy breeze drifted across her face.

“No,” she whispered as she opened her eyes again.

“Little bird, how I’ve missed you,” said the voice of a young man.

In trepidation, she raised her gaze to the now, open, window.  The curtains were fluttering in the breeze, and Peter Pan’s dark silhouette was posed in the center, staring down at her.

“No,” she said again, louder, “No, no, no!” She sat up, and hysteria was quickly overtaking her.

Pan jumped lightly from the window ledge and swiftly crossed the room to her.  “Oh Wendy, I hoped you’d be happy to see me again.  It seems we just aren’t able to stay away from each other.”  He gazed the entire length of her. “My, how you’ve grown.”

It had been ten years since she had escaped from Neverland.  She was a young woman of 21 now.  Peter, of course, looked the same as ever – no older than 17 – although he had lived for centuries.

_I HAVE grown_ , she thought to herself, and that gave her courage.  “I’m not a child anymore, Peter.  You can’t be a part of my life anymore.”

“Oh, but I can,” he said sitting beside her on the bed causing it to dip.  She involuntarily rolled toward him.

“No, the rules are that you can only take children!” she recited for herself as much as for him.  She pressed a hand to his chest in an effort to push him away and felt his soft tunic under her fingers.  It was the same tunic she had felt a hundred times before.   He smelled like Neverland: like earth, trees, and salt water. 

“I make the rules,” he said as he leaned in further and touched her soft hair.  “I’ve waited for you, Wendy, watching from afar as you’ve blossomed.”  She turned away from him, so he moved his hand to her chin and forced her to face him.

“You hurt me, Peter,” she whispered, recalling the years spent hanging in the cage.

His eyes darkened, “You deserved it!” he said as he let go of her chin.  He stood up and towered over her.  “You were trying to steal my Lost Boys!” he spat.  He grabbed her upper arm painfully and pulled her out of the bed.

“Peter!” she pleaded trying to twist away from him.

“I just want you to come out and play.” He sneered as he wrapped his other arm around her, crushing her to him.  He lifted them both in the air and shot out the window.  She clung desperately to him as her world became smaller and smaller below them.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was the boy she had always loved. This was the boy she had always hated. Silly thing that: Emotion. Better for her to have been indifferent.

Wendy opened her eyes to pitch darkness.  _Had_ she opened them?  It was so dark she couldn’t be sure.  She blinked a few times, but there was no change to the inky blackness.  Wind rustled the leaves of the trees nearby, crickets chirped, and occasionally an owl would hoot.  She inhaled deeply and drank in the scent of cedar and must.  There was a soft mattress beneath her.  She was in the treehouse.  They had arrived.

The warmth of another body radiated next to her.  She felt something heavy across her chest and found when she reached up that it was a hand.  Her breath hitched, and she let go of the hand.  It was Peter.  She lay perfectly still hoping she hadn’t woken him.   

The old brass bed creaked as he shifted.

She braced herself for a snarky comment or a demanding question. She knew Peter relished verbal battles of will.  But no words came.  No sound came except the slight shudder of a breath.  She felt him lift his hand from her chest.  It was replaced by the lightest of touches from his fingertips on her clavicle.  He slowly traced a path up her neck, and she swallowed.  He continued his exploration, achingly slowly, up her chin, then to her left cheek.  His fingertips felt like velvet on the soft skin of her face.

She closed her eyes as he traced her eyebrows and even eyelashes.  The bed creaked again, and she felt another impossibly light touch on her forehead.  She felt a breath on her face and then realized the touch had been from his lips.  His cupped his hand under her left ear as his lips ghosted across hers.  It was so quick, she wasn’t sure she had really felt it.  

Why was he acting like this?  In all the many years she had known him, he had never been this affectionate.  Gentleness and care were not part of Peter’s personality, and they never would be so long as he called this island home and refused to age. 

_He wants something…_

Flashing in her mind’s eye was herself and Peter naked, entwined in a lover’s embrace, and she instantly blushed scarlet.  She was grateful he couldn’t see her face _._

 _If he wanted that_ , she thought, _he would just take it_.  What he wanted had to be something she could only give away freely.

His hand had just finished caressing her left shoulder through her nightgown and was now gently tracing down her arm.  He reached her hand and entwined their fingers together.  He brushed his lips against hers again, lingering for a moment just at the corner of her mouth.  Comprehension dawned on her. 

 _He wants my hidden kiss!_  

It was her kiss that she kept guarded and private – only to be shared with her special love.  A seething wrath coiled and uncoiled in her belly at having figured out his latest game.  Her body tensed, and he immediately reacted to the change.  His fingers were no longer gently entwined with hers.  He grasped them in a vice-like grip and slammed them into the pillow above her head.  Her other hand was still free though.  She didn’t have the room between them to slap his face, which is what she wanted to do, so she just attempted to claw at it instead.  She couldn’t see anything though so she ended up getting the side of his head.  She scraped his scalp with her nails and pulled his hair.  His breath quickened as he rolled over onto his knees above her, straddling her waist.

She kicked her leg up and connected just enough for him to falter a moment and release her hand.  She threw all her weight against him as she twisted and they fell onto the hard floor in a tumble of threadbare sheets and tangled limbs.  She was breathing hard now.  She lurched away and knocked over the bedside table that she couldn’t see.  He caught her hip and pulled her sliding on her belly back to him.  Her night dress hitched up around her waist from being dragged backwards across the floor.  She wore no undergarments, so the cool night air hit the most private and sensitive areas of her body, causing her skin to prickle with gooseflesh.  Pan reached his other hand out blindly to get a better hold of her and was met with the naked curve of her buttock under the palm of his hand.  The inadvertent slap of his hand reverberated around the room.  They both gasped.

She kicked out again and hit his face this time.  She hastily got to her feet, but instead of trying to run away again, she turned toward the sound of his breathing and lunged at him.  Her fingers curled into his soft tunic.  He caught her at her waist, picked her up, and tossed her back onto the bed.  He climbed on top of her, restraining her wrists, and this time he positioned his hips between her legs so she couldn’t kick him again.  She writhed and twisted, but wasn’t able to move.  He chuckled softly and laid his full weight on top of her.  He brought his lips to her neck, but instead of his previous light and tender kisses, they were hard and searing.

He ground his hips into hers, and she responded automatically by wrapping her legs around his waist.  He smiled into her neck.  She nipped at his ear, wanting to taste his mouth, but unable to reach it.  He ground his hips into hers again, and a strangled moan escaped her lips.  Finally he kissed her mouth, and she kissed him back, but it wasn’t her hidden kiss.  He hadn’t won that game.  She kissed him passionately, for it was impossible not to feel passion near him.  This was the boy she had always loved.  This was the boy she had always hated.  Silly thing that: Emotion.  Better for her to have been indifferent.

They rocked back and forth kissing and touching and grinding until at once Wendy began keening and clung to Peter as desperately as she had on the flight to Neverland.  He wasn’t sure what to make of this so he remained still until she stopped.  When she finished she let go of him and panted.  He rolled off her to his side of the bed, and she curled up next to him.  The abandoned bulge in his trousers was uncomfortable, but would eventually go away.  This was just the first night, and they had an eternity.

They lay together awake until the sun began to rise.  Without the mask of darkness to hide her, Wendy felt foolish and regretful of what had passed in the night.  She sat up with her legs over the side of the bed.

“Will you be going to your Lost Boys this morning?” she asked, looking out the window.

“No,” was all he said.

“No?” she questioned still looking determinedly away from him.

“There are no Lost Boys anymore,” he said. “There haven’t been for quite some time.”


End file.
